


Defenseless

by taggiecb



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Communication, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Harry's Birthday, M/M, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 08:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20963843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb
Summary: A year after Harry and Louis break up they are still both dealing with the emotional ramifications.





	Defenseless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allwaswell16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/gifts).

> The fact that I wrote this for my best friend for her birthday tells everyone a lot about who I am as a person lol. Happy Birthday love. I hope this doesn't hurt too much lol.

Louis stares at the ceiling of his living room silently. It’s not exactly difficult to be silent. His apartment has felt empty for months. Even his friends have stopped coming around. Not that Louis blames them. He isn’t exactly good company. But today is probably one of the worst days. It’s Harry’s birthday. Which also happens to be the anniversary of when he met the love of his life. Which also happens to be the one year anniversary of the day that he also lost the love of his life. Bringing the feeling to the surface hurts just as much as it did when Harry had walked out the front door for the last time. 

Of course Louis could name any number of excuses as to why their relationship had gone sour. They were young, maybe they grew apart, maybe they were just too different. Maybe the pressures of the outside world were too much for them. And yes, all of that could be true, but in reality, at the end of the day, Harry had done what he has always done when things got hard, he threatened to leave. Only this time, Louis let him. 

He waited for weeks by the phone, terrified to take his ringer off silent in case he missed a precious window in which Harry might be willing to talk to him, but the call never came. All of his friends, even Harry’s own best friend told him to move on, but Louis couldn’t dismiss the idea that letting go of Harry was letting go of his future. Maybe they were bad for each other, but that couldn’t compare to the feeling of being torn in half when he didn’t have Harry there by his side. 

He jumps as his phone vibrates in his pocket. For a brief second he almost thinks that maybe it’s going to be Harry. As if Louis thinking about him would be powerful enough to summon the man. But it’s not Harry, it’s Zayn. Which is almost as amazing as he hasn’t heard from him in a long while. 

“Hello?” Louis asks, feeling almost tentative. 

“What’s going on stud?” Zayn replies in his lazy drawn out drawl. 

“Lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling.” Louis answers, knowing that Zayn would take it as a joke. 

As expected, Zayn laughs. “I’m in town. Want to see you.” 

Louis sighs, calculating silently whether he has the emotional capacity to deal with Zayn and his own crisis simultaneously. He decides that he doesn’t, but there will probably be alcohol and at the very least distraction. “Yeah man, sounds good. Coming over?” 

“Fuck no, we’re going out.” 

Louis sighs again. Should have known. “Alright, give me twenty and I’ll meet you at Rosie’s.

“I’m already there bro.” Zayn says and hangs up. 

Louis groans loudly as he gets to his feet. It’s not like there’s anyone around to hear him. 

The vibe of Rosie’s feels almost manic to Louis’ already sensitive nerves. It takes him less than five seconds to clock Zayn, sitting in his regular corner, almost aggressively ignoring the crowd of both men and women who are trying to get his attention. Louis wonders why he even likes going out in public in the first place. He stops at the bar for a couple of pints before he deposits himself in the worn leather booth next to Zayn. Zayn immediately takes one of them and sits it in front of himself. Some things never change. 

“So what’s up?” Louis asks him after a few minutes of silence, both of them pretending to be actually interested in their surroundings. 

“Does something have to be up?” Zayn asks defensively. Louis groans internally. 

“No, something doesn’t have to be up, but clearly something is up.” Yeah, it was blunt, but what’s the point of wasting time? What’s the point of any of this, Louis thinks. 

“I’m moving home. Back to town that is.” Zayn replies, looking contrite. “I know a lot of people won’t be happy about that.” Zayn looks sad for a moment. No, his leaving town left quite an uproar among their group of friends. Especially his boyfriend who didn’t realise he was getting dumped until he found half of his apartment packed up. “I wanted to see if you were going to be one of those people. 

Louis thinks about it for a few moments, allowing his beer to occupy his mouth. Liam was Louis’ friend, and of course forgiving Zayn would be considered a slight to their friendship, but in reality, Louis isn’t one to be begging friends. Nearly all of them have shoved off after Louis couldn’t deal with losing Harry. Most of it was Louis pushing them away, but it was easier for him to blame everyone else and eventually they just stopped coming around. Liam would barely notice that he has allowed public enemy number one into his life again. 

Besides. Zayn was his best friend once upon a time and he could use someone in his corner again. “No man. Of course I’m not one of them. I’m glad you’re back.” 

Zayn’s shoulders visibly relax and he leans in to give Louis a hug. “Good, tell me everything. What’s been going on with you?” 

“When I told you that I was laying on my couch, staring at the ceiling? I wasn’t joking. That is a pretty good summary of the last twelve months of my life actually.” Louis’ gut wrenches at the confession and he takes another drink. A bigger one this time. 

“I see.” Zayn says, studying him. “What happened?” 

“Me and Harry broke up.” Louis says. It’s an easy sentence. He says it practically every single day. 

“What? When?” It’s almost a bit like a high, finding someone who hasn’t heard the sob story yet. He has to restrain himself when he says “A year.”

What Zayn says next though kills the buzz immediately. “And you’re still hung up on him?” 

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Yes? Of course he is? How long should it take a person to get over the love of their life? “I don’t know if hung up is the word for it.” He grumbles. “I’m still processing. There’s no time limit.” 

“Jesus, he didn’t die.” Zayn almost laughs, but apparently Louis’ face gives indication that now is not the time for jokes. “So tell me what happened?”

“I don’t want to tell you about it now.” 

“Did he cheat on you? Did you cheat on him? Was there lies? Scandal? Did you kill his childhood pet?” Zayn keeps pestering, every suggestion more outrageous than the last. It makes Louis want to smile. Almost. 

“He got mad at me, and threatened to leave. It was something stupid. We were discussing needing a new kitchen table. Then of course it turned into an argument about money. Harry threatened to leave. It was his usual tactic to get his way, and it usually worked, but that night, it didn’t. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. It was his birthday. We were supposed to be happy. And instead he was making me feel as if nothing I ever did was enough. So I didn’t stop him.”

“And then?” Zayn asks, looking concerned and confused all in one. 

“And then nothing. Then he was gone. I haven’t talked to him since. About a week after the argument he got Niall to come and pack up his stuff and that was it.”

“What the fuck,” Zayn says, almost to himself. Again, not really the response that Louis was expecting. “That’s fucked up bro.” 

“How?” 

“You never called him? Email? Letter? Slid into his DMs? No contact?” 

“He never contacted me either.” Louis frowns as putting his bottle to his lips reminds him that it’s empty. He looks towards the bar and sees that it’s solid people and sighs. 

“Well no, but…” Zayn stalls out, clamping his mouth shut

“But what?” 

“You were always the one to call.” Zayn says finally. 

“That’s the point. I’m always the one to fix things. Always the one to give in. I was tired of it.” 

“Well…” Zayn says again. The crowd at the bar is looking more and more tempting to Louis. 

“Spill it, Malik.” 

“I love you Louis, truly I do.” Zayn says. “But you’re not exactly the most forthcoming person.” 

“And?” 

“Harry didn’t threaten to leave every time you two argued because he’s childish. I mean, it’s a bit childish, but it was the only thing that got you to say anything. You would never push back. You would never lay your feelings on the line. And I know that’s not who you are as a person, and I’m fine with the way you are. But Harry clearly wasn’t. He wasn’t fine.” 

What the actual fuck. Louis thinks. This can’t be true. Of course Louis has told Harry his feelings before. Of course he puts himself out there. Doesn’t he? Didn’t he? He looks at Zayn who is looking more apologetic than ever. Zayn, the man who literally walked out on everyone is pitying him. Wow. 

“I gotta go,” He says, already getting out of his seat. He expects Zayn to protest, but he just nods solemnly. He doesn’t look at anything or anyone until he gets out of the building. It’s blistering cold outside, but he leans back onto the rough, frozen brick of the bar and takes long gulps of breath. 

He can’t believe what Zayn said to him. He refuses. Some otherworldly force is making his hands take his phone from his back pocket and he’s somehow staring at Harry’s contact. Maybe Harry’s contact. Maybe he changed his number. Maybe he doesn’t even have a mobile anymore. Louis wouldn’t put it past him. He hates every fibre of his being as he hits the call button. 

“Hello?” Harry’s voice fills his ear and Louis almost asks him to say it again just so Louis can hear the rich tones one more time. Harry of course knows who it is. 

“Hi,” He says, not really knowing what else to say. He wonders what he even expected to happen. A sharp whip of wind hits him suddenly and he remembers that he’s standing outside like an idiot on a dark February night. 

“Are you seriously doing this on my birthday?” Harry breaks the short silence with spiky annoyance. 

“There has been a development.” Louis replies. If feels as if no time has elapsed between them at all. They still talk as if they were in the middle of a conversation all along. 

“Well your timing has always been impeccable.” 

“Are you busy?” 

“It’s my birthday.” Harry says slowly and clearly as if Louis didn’t understand the words. Then he sighs and doesn’t say anything for three long seconds. “I’m at The Four Seasons. I’m meeting some friends in a few hours.” 

“Are you alone?” Louis holds his breath, bracing himself for the blow. 

“Yeah,” Harry breaths and the word feels more loaded than anything they’ve said over the last five minutes. “Room 108, I’ll meet you in the hallway.” 

Louis doesn’t know if he took an actual breath for the full twenty minutes it took for the taxi to get him to the hotel. He stares at it looming over him like an intimidating beacon on a dark night. But he’s here, and Harry’s waiting so he takes one step at a time and finds his way to the lobby. He considers going to the front desk and asking where to go, but he’s afraid that they would require some sort of permission so he pretends that he belongs and walks confidently toward the elevator. He takes a guess at a floor and waits. 

His first instinct when he sees Harry leaning against the wall, arms crossed across his chest, is to run the other way. But he can’t do that. It’s too late. He instead walks as close to Harry as he will allow himself and sticks his hands in his pockets to avoid doing something stupid like trying to touch him. 

“Want to go in?” Harry tilts his head towards the closed door of what Louis assumes is his room. He nods and waits for Harry to open the door. 

The room itself is spacious and expensive looking. Not surprising he supposes. Harry asks him if he wants a drink and his shakes his head no before he does a cursory sweep of the space and lands on a small table with chairs around it. He figures this is the safest place to sit and makes himself as comfortable as possible and watches Harry as he pours something amber coloured into a glass. 

He’s almost unnerved when Harry sits down opposite him and stares with cold eyes into Louis’. He takes a sip of the drink in front of him and sighs. “So what was this development?” Harry asks, sounding almost bored of the topic already. 

“I saw Zayn tonight.” Louis says. This gets an eyebrow raise from Harry at least. “He’s moving back to town.” 

“That’s brave of him.” Harry says, taking a sip. Louis would argue that it isn’t, that a lot of time has passed and bygones should be bygones. But this isn’t a normal chat around the kitchen table. This isn’t about Zayn. 

“I told him that we broke up. The ummm… circumstances around the breakup.” 

“Hm, I can imagine the picture you painted. I guess I won’t have to worry about him trying to get back in contact.” Harry doesn’t say it with any malice. Just states it as if it's a fact.

“ I didn’t paint a great picture of myself because he basically told me that I was wrong.” 

“I imagine.” 

“Apparently I’m not good at expressing my feelings.” 

Harry actually laughs at this but when he looks back at Louis something in Louis’ face must tell him something. Harry’s face falls and his body stills. “Oh shit, you’re serious.” 

“Yeah,” Louis says, feeling small, and a bit stupid, if he’s being honest with himself. 

“Louis how did you not know that? I have literally begged you to talk to me. I have pleaded to know your feelings, your opinions. I have prayed that you would just tell me that you were happy or angry or sad or anything.” Harry’s voice gets loud and Louis can feel himself shrinking into himself. “You’re not just a closed book Louis. You’re sealed in a vault in a collapsed mine.”

“I didn’t know.” Louis mumbles, feeling exposed and vulnerable. 

“How? Are you a bad listener as well? I guess so. Because it’s all I have ever said to you for the last month we were together.” Harry is standing and pacing the room now, not even looking at Louis. But suddenly he turns to look at Louis, eyes no longer cold. Quite the opposite, he looks as though he’s on fire, and burning straight into Louis soul. “That last fight we had?” He laughs. “Fight, as if you would ever fight back.” He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Louis wonders how many times Harry has had this argument in his head. He doesn’t seem to need Louis there at all. “That last fight we had. It wasn’t about the damned dining table. It was because you were going to just settle. I knew you hated that table. I knew that you wouldn’t tell me. I was desperate for you to just fight me. I was nearly demented with the need for you to push me back.” 

The last words are almost spit at him, but Louis stands up, chest to Harry’s heaving chest. “Well now I know that is what you needed from me.” His quiet voice is such a contrast to Harry’s frantic bellowing that it almost sounds like a foreign language. “Thank you for listening.” He then walks out feeling numb in a way that painkillers take the pain but he knows that the hurt is still lurking just under the surface. 

He lays in bed for the rest of the night. Sleep is completely out of the question but so is drinking himself into a stupor or jumping from the roof of the building. So laying in bed not sleeping is, by process of elimination, the best option. He isn’t sure what he expected when he called Harry, or when he saw Harry, but in the end he did the exact thing that both Harry and Zayn told him, very specifically, was the issue with his relationship. 

What in the hell is wrong with him? He had every chance to tell Harry how much he hurt him that night. He could have apologized for his part. He could have told Harry that he still loves him so much that it makes it hard to breath if he thinks about it too much. But faced with Harry’s frustration, he fled. He always does. And he has no idea what to do to stop that. 

The pounding on his door right before dawn makes him wonder if he did fall asleep at some point, but as he stands up and feels the aches of a sleepless night of tossing and turning, he realises that he’s still very much awake, and the noise is still very much echoing through the apartment. 

When he opens the door, he can’t tell if he’s actually surprised that Harry is standing on the other side. Well, standing is being generous. He’s leaning heavily on the door frame with the long wisps of hair on his forehead that was so carefully styled hours earlier half shadowing his face. He reeks of alcohol, but the exact same look of fury that Louis had left on his face is still blatantly visible. 

“How fucking dare you.” Harry says in a low voice. As if now is the time that he cares what the neighbors can hear. 

Louis merely stands aside and lets him into the kitchen. Harry follows, closing the door and kicking off his shoes. They land in the place where they were always kept as if they remember the kitchen as much as Harry does. He opens the fridge, casting light into the dark space and pulls out a cold bottle of water and milk for the tea that he knows that he’ll need. He hears a noise behind him that can only be described as a sob. 

“I was fine.” Harry says to him. Once again continuing a conversation that they weren’t actually having. “I had a date tonight. It’s my fucking birthday.” Louis sets the kettle on the stove and places the water in front of Harry. “Fucking say something!” Harry startles him out of the trance that he seems to be in. “Something Louis. Please. Tell me off for showing up here at four in the bloody morning. Tell me to go home. Tell me you never want to see me again. Just tell me something.” 

“You know I would never tell you any of those things.” Louis says, chest tight. 

“Why won’t you just talk to me.” Harry sounds defeated, all of the fight seeming to leave him all at once. “Why can’t you tell me how you feel. I love you so much and you can’t even…” He trails off his words as his shoulders start to shake slightly. 

Louis sits down again, tea forgotten and really looks at Harry. He has so many things that he wants to say. Maybe now is the time. After all, what other chance is he going to have? “I love you so much that I worry that I will do myself physical harm in order to keep you safe.” Louis says, voice shaky, but it gets Harry’s attention. His eyes focus instantly on Louis’ face. “The mere idea of making you unhappy makes me both angry and outraged. There hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last three hundred and sixty five that I haven’t thought of you, wanted you, missed you. But somewhere I forgot how to be with you. I forgot how to be a person that was myself, and not just a tool to make you happy.” Harry opens his mouth, but Louis puts a hand up, needing to keep his own pace otherwise he may never get everything out. “I was your protector. Nothing mattered to me more than you being your best you. Your best job, your best friends, your best apartment. I never wanted to be the one to rock the boat. And all it ever seemed to do was hurt you more.” 

“I never asked you to do that for me.” Harry replies, seeming almost offended. 

“I never said you did. Clearly I have some issues of my own.” Louis crosses his arms, looking at the table. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” Louis looks at him again. Something crosses over Harry’s face in the haze of whatever he had consumed earlier. 

“I didn’t see any of that.”

“Well, neither of us are very perceptive are we?” Louis attempts to joke, but it falls flat. 

“That last time, when you didn’t stop me.” Harry swallows hard and Louis can almost pinpoint the feeling that he’s having because Louis is feeling it too. “Was it a relief to you?” 

“No.” Louis knows what Harry’s asking, but he doesn’t dare say it out loud. “It was the worst thing I have ever done in my life. Almost as stupid as what I did earlier tonight.”

“I’m still not sure if coming here was a good idea.” Harry leans back into the hard wooden dining chair. 

“No?” 

“Do you?” Harry asks. Louis recognises the question. An old tactic to get Louis talking. Arguing usually. 

“Yeah,” He says, going against all of his instincts. “I think it was good.” 

“Why?” Harry leans towards him. 

“Now we know how one another are feeling. Closure.” Louis tries to smile at Harry, it doesn’t quite translate to his face. 

“Closure.” Harry repeats. “Closure means the end.” 

“Sometimes, yes.” 

“Do you want this to be the end?” 

Louis knows what he should say. He knows what would be the right thing to do. He should bundle Harry into a taxi and send him to wherever he should be sleeping tonight. He should close this book, keep them both safe. “No, I don’t.” 

Harry sighs and puts his head on the table. “You’re killing me Louis.” 

“Don’t make me regret this Harry.” Louis says. Harry looks up at him looking pitiful. Louis gets up from his chair and walks towards him, one step, then two. He leans down and touches his lips to Harry’s. Harry immediately reciprocates as though he’s suffocating and Louis is air. “Go to bed. I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“But…” Harry scrambles to get close again but Louis steps away. “Your bed.” 

“Happy birthday Harry.” 

Louis wakes up in a very bright room with the feeling that he isn’t alone. When he finally cracks an eye open the first thing he sees is Harry’s sleeping form curled up in the armchair opposite the couch. Louis sighs and sits up. He takes a quick look at his phone to see that it’s nearly eleven am. He allows himself to stare at Harry for a second before it starts to get creepy. He can see the dark circles under his eyes, the light scruff over his chin. His dark blue button down shirt is wrinkled and stretched open, revealing all too familiar tattoos peaking through. Louis is quite sure that he could feel every inch of Harry’s body from memory. 

“Harry,” He whispers. 

Harry moans a bit but opens his eyes and immediately trains them, unblinking, onto Louis. “Morning, Lou.” He says in a gruff voice. 

“Why are you sleeping on the chair?” 

“I woke up a little while ago, and started to wonder if I imagined everything that happened last night. I didn’t want to be away from you anymore.” 

Louis heart clenches. “You were pretty drunk last night.” 

“So did I imagine it?” Harry sits up straighter although Louis can see that the movement causes a good deal of discomfort. “You didn’t say that you didn’t want us to be done?” 

“No, you didn’t imagine it.” Louis says, which is all that Harry needs to move from the chair to join Louis on the couch, as close as either of them dare to get. 

“But….there sounds like there’s a but in there.” 

“But the last year has been horrible. Do you really just want to jump back into that?” 

“No, of course not. But we know now. We can learn from our mistakes.” It’s a stupid detail, but when Harry says  _ our mistakes _ it feels as though a large burden has been lifted from him. “We’re not kids anymore Lou. We are going to have to communicate like adults. We’re going to have to be a team. You and me against the world. Not you keeping the world from hurting me.” 

“And you need to accept that I will struggle with that and not just walk out when it gets hard.” Louis says. He can see by Harry’s face that it hurt him, but he nods. 

“Yeah, that too.” He reaches a hand out and slides it into Louis’. Louis takes it, squeezing Harry’s fingers gently. “We’ve come a long way from that birthday party that Niall put on for me.” 

“And we have a long way to go.” Louis leans his head and rests it against Harry’s chest. He can feel the steady beat of Harry’s heart and it makes him feel that he could sleep another month just from the rhythm. 

“And we’ll do it together.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr post here](https://taggiecb.tumblr.com/post/188234373902/defenseless-by-taggiecb-a-year-after-harry-and)


End file.
